Well, but it's Christmas
by Bara Husband
Summary: He does not mind if, when anyone asks, they begin here.


"It's Christmas."

Danny's been expecting someone, anyone- Sam or Tucker with a clenched fist, or Jazz with a thermos of something hot, or maybe even Valerie, with a bottle of whiskey and a head full of memories about someone else, about a child who melted away in her arms so many years ago-

He certainly does not expect a dead man. Or, a half dead one.

He doesn't expect his heart to jump into his throat, or beat ten thousand miles an hour, either.

"I just- you are alone, and I am alone, and I thought-" Vlad says, thumbing a package, "Well," he purses his lip. "It's Christmas."

He has not seen Plasmius in Years. Not since he touched down back to Earth, shattered and stammering and so _pitiful _that Danny could not help himself. Could not turn away. Not since he tucked him safely away and nursed him back to health and gave him back to the Ghost Zone. Not since he stopped reaching for him, like a moth for a flame. Vlad has always been too hot to touch, too much, and tonight he is- he seems so cold.

He has not seen Plasmius in years.

Not while his Father was in the hospital, mumbling _I'm so proud of you, I'm so proud of you son, you are such a good man, I am so proud, _over and over again until he fell asleep one last time. Not while his mother cried. Not while his friends grew older before his eyes and he remained stuck, just older than a child, circling around himself. _Hunt Ghosts. Sleep. Eat. Hunt Ghosts. Sleep. Hunt Ghosts. Pretend that you are sleeping. Hunt Ghosts. Hunt Ghosts. _

So why- why now, is this man standing on his step like a child, hunched over and timid, clutching his hand to his chest as though he is falling apart at the seams and if he loosens his grip by the slightest bit all of his parts will come crumbling down and puddle around Danny's feet?

"May I come in?"

Well. Danny's mouth goes dry. It's not a totally unreasonable request, but a part of him wants to slam the door, rummage through his cabinet and find something to get him blindingly, staggeringly drunk. Another part wants to punch Vlad in the teeth, repeatedly, wants to feel his limbs slam into Plasmius's crumpling body. Wants to cuss him off the porch. Wants to know where he's been so many years.

"It's Christmas," He says, stepping to the side and allotting just enough room for Vlad to slip inside.

Vlad smiles and he has to squash down the urge to slam the door.

Of course, he does not get the chance, and Vlad wanders past him humbly. Danny closes the door behind him and stays turned away for a moment to breathe, and then lock the door again. He turns and Vlad is still standing, still looking lost. Like a child. Hardly the sixty year old man he's supposed to be.

Vlad doesn't look a day over forty. If not for the gaunt of his face, he could be Danny's age. He could be a young man, just beginning, if you weren't paying attention.

"I brought you a gift." he thrusts the package out, unable to look Danny in the eye. "It is not much, but, but its Christmas, so-"

"Thanks," Danny takes it from him. They're fingers almost brush against one another. It's rather light. "You want something to drink? Are you hungry?"

"Well," Vlad says, fidgeting. "Coffee would be nice. Tea, if you have any."

He doesn't have any tea, but two cups of coffee are poured and he digs around his kitchen cabinets to find an only slightly stale pound cake. He sets it all down on his small kitchen table and watches Vlad pour sugar and milk into his cup, and sips his own, black.

"Open your gift," Vlad says softly, glancing at the clock by the window. "You've only got a little bit of Christmas left."

"How do you know where I live, now?" Danny says, a little more harshly than he intends. "How do you- where have you been, so long?" He's crushing the little package in his hand. Vlad reaches out across the table to touch him, but stops.

"Away," he says, and looks down at his mug.

"You can't do that," Danny says, trembling, "I haven't seen you in- ten years, at least, you can't just-" _You can't leave for years on end. Can't show up on christmas with gifts for tea and cake and small talk. You can't sit there and look so fragile, you cannot look like a boy. I look like a boy. You can't._

"Open your gift." Vlad says again, and leans back in his chair and sips his coffee.

Danny wants to hit him, but his fingers are already tearing at the brown paper package and revealing a smooth, red box underneath. He lifts the lid, and inlaid in gold is a small ornate key. Danny takes it out of the box, and notices a V and M stacked in fancy lettering. It looks like it should be so much heavier than it is.

"What is this?" Danny asks, twisting the key around his fingers.

"It is- a key," Vlad shifts his cup, "to my home. In the ghost zone. I want you to come home with me. Not- permanently, not forever or- I don't expect you to leave your friends or your family but, you are the reason- you are always welcome, if you want, you don't have to come-" Vlad is stumbling a steady stream of words and Danny cannot quite hear him over the pounding of his heart, like a drum; like gunfire.

He reaches across the table to punch Vlad in the teeth. The man flies back, unsuspecting, and sprawls across the floor.. Danny hauls him up to his feet again.

"How dare you-" He hisses, his heart aching, its not fair, its not- after so long, that Vlad still thinks of him as a boy, as a child who needs a home. He is not. He is a damned grown fucking man and he does not _need _this. Not now. Not on- _Christmas. _

_ "I saved you," _He hisses, " _I _saved _you, _not the other way around. I am thirty four fucking years old. And _I _saved _you. _I didn't have to._" _

He expects Vlad to hit him back. To transform, to fight him so hard that the building comes crashing down around them. He expects Vlad to yell, or kick or strangle him.

"Okay," Vlad says, and hangs his head down. "You're right. I- Alright. I will let myself out. "

Danny shakes him, grips his shoulders. They're so thin, so thin they could break, he's like a boy, this man, and his heart is still going on and on and he wonders if Vlad can feel it, and it makes him angrier. He pushes him against the wall.

"Daniel?" Vlad sounds afraid. _This is all wrong._

_ "_Where did you go," Danny says, deadly quiet. "Where have you been?"

Vlad watches him, half afraid and half- something else.

"Away," he says again.

"Damn it, Vlad-" and he's so tired, that must be it, must be why he leans forward and rests his forhead on Vlad's stiffened shoulder, why he breathes him in- the man smells like coffee and tobacco and rain and Danny wonders if he's real, for a moment. Wonders what he's doing wandering in and out of his life like this, making a mess wherever he goes. A boy.

"Daniel," Vlad says a little surprised, a little soft.

"I'm not your son," Danny steps back, "I'm not a kid. My dad is dead." He turns to go pick up the coffee (Vlad's glass has shattered on the floor. How did he not hear that?) and then he's going to let Vlad out and wait a few more Christmases for the man to come back looking a little more like a man, maybe after he outlives his mother, maybe after his friends are old in their bones and don't remember his name- but he does not doubt that Vlad will come back. And they will pick up here in this kitchen, with smashed coffee and half-fights and go over and over again because that's what Danny does, finds something hollow and comfortable and circles around it. Like a cat curling around it's masters leg. Like a child.

But then Vlad's hand is on his shoulder, and he doesn't- he's not sure why its there because Vlad isn't saying anything, isn't holding him back or pushing him forward so he turns around and Plasmius looks like he's going to- to cry, or break down in his kitchen and puddle around his feet;

"Oh _Daniel," _he says. His fingers twitch like he wants to slide them down around his waist, or maybe up around his neck. " I did not mean it like that."

"Oh," Danny says, and he can feel Vlad's breath just hardly on his cheek, and wants to yell at himself and close his own goddamned mouth but cannot- cannot do anything but look this sad old man in the face and _ache. _

But then Vlad moves forward just enough, just within reach, and he seems so much colder tonight but still somehow on fire- and he-

He just-

"You said it wasn't much," Danny says, instead, and Vlad looks down.

"It isn't," he sighs. "and it isn't finished. It's only an invitation, Daniel. As you are. No strings attached. I'm-" his grip on Danny tightens, "I'm so grateful, for you. I would be dead."

"Oh," Danny says again. His head is spinning. "I thought you... forgot."

"I have never," Vlad snaps his head up again, suddenly unshy, "It was always _you, _Daniel. I couldn't have possibly. "

"Oh," he repeats himself. He wonders why that seems to change everything, why does it make the room spin, "Sorry I hit you."

"Don't be," Vlad shakes his head, but Danny can already see the bruise on his perfect mouth, shiny and purple and crooked. He wants to make it better, wants to sooth him and apologize and iron out all the wrinkles in his posture and-

-when did they get so close, goddamn himself why can't he stop gaping like a slack jawed idiot-

Vlad's mouth is wet and swollen and so, so so perfect. He presses hot firm kisses on every inch of it he can reach. It is quite probably terrible, but Vlad does not seem to mind so much. He pulls away a moment. Vlad's eyes seem a bit glazed.

"My room is like, right above us." Danny pants.

"Oh," Vlad says this time, and reaches out for him again.

It's Vlad that transforms and floats them upstairs, but Danny that pushes him down onto the bed once he is human again, clothes and shoes and all. They're fumbling at buttons and zippers like teenagers, when Danny gets the bright idea to pull Vlad's shirt _through _him. They stop kissing for just a moment, Vlad raises an imperious eyebrow but he's grinning and it hits Danny so sharply, so warmly-

Clothes fly over the bed one by one, intertwined with kisses and roaming fingers. Vlad means only to phase his pants off, but catches Danny's briefs and both go tumbling over the edge of the bed.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to-" Vlad says, flushing red.

"Vlad," Danny breathes. He can feel the name in his mouth, he loves the weight of it, loves how it comes out all at once in one hot breath, so he says it again, "_Vlad_, hold still," and he rolls them both over and phases the rest of Plasmius's clothes off of his body, and then straddles him. Vlad feels Danny's skin against his cock and he- oh god, _oh god- _Danny is moving, moving against him in the dark but he cannot- handle it he is fifty seven years old dear lord, dear lord.

"_Daniel, _wait, just-" and Danny stops, looking terrified, like he might break, like Vlad is going to leave, like he could ever possibly want to _stop _touching this boy, but he lifts away on his hands and knees and waits for whatever Vlad has to say.

"Did I-" Danny still has his shirt on, it hangs down under him and brushes against Vlad's stomach. . "I mean- did you- we don't-"

"I don't have any condoms," Vlad blushes, "I did not think to, ah,'

"_OH," _Danny says, suddenly beet red. "Yeah, oh, _duh_ I guess I got, carried away, um, just a second," and he climbs up a bit so that his chest is above Vlad and Vlad just- lies there and enjoys it, enjoys being covered in Danny on all sides even for a brief moment. Danny leans farther and Vlad can see him red and shining and—oh god he has never understood what it meant for something to be mouthwatering, but here, right now, he wants Danny's cock in his mouth so bad his lips are damp. Danny pulls back and sits to Vlad's side with two condoms in his hand.

"Uhm, I'm not sure, since we're both guys, but, I guess if we're-" But Vlad snatches one and tears it open, and pushes Danny back onto the bed. And grabs his cock and rolls it on in one swift motion before burying it in his mouth. Danny moans loud and long and it causes a tremor in Vlad's heart.

"Oh oh fu-hnnck, oh go-OH, oh _shi-_T_" _but he can't form a sentence to save his life so he settles on "_Vlad, Vlad, oh Vlad." _and that seems to work, his mouth can do that much, so he says it over and over and over again. When Vlad bobs his head, and buries his nose into Danny's hair, and when Vlad grips his thighs just at the knee and when Vlad does that _thing _with his tongue and Danny is so hot, so hot he rips his shirt off and buries his hand in Vlad's hair, pulls out his tie and scratches his scalp and Vlad _moans _and Danny can feel it all the way up behind his eyelids.

"Vlad, you have to," Danny is trying to pull him up, he doesn't want to come like this, looking at the ceiling with no one in his arms, he wants- "Vlad you have—to fuck me, oh god, please, I can't-"

Vlad nods and reaches for the other condom, but Danny beats him to it, and pushes him back onto the bed and- for the first time, _looks. _

He takes in the sight of Vlad, naked, hair strewn and panting, skin pale and gaunt stretched over his slim form. Danny looks at him like he's a star, like he's trying to figure out his density and calculating how many millions more years until his detonation. (The answer: seconds) He wants to push Danny away but also wants to bring him close, wants him to be the first thing impaled when his heart explodes, (seconds).

Danny has a mark on his left shoulder that looks like the shape of Florida. Warm and sunny and tart-sweet like an orange. He's got half a million scars, little white specks, like diamonds across his tanned frame, not pink and raised but soft like new, like he's going to shed his outer shell soon, he's been lying this whole time he was never a man but and angel, silver and soft and lovely.

"Danny," he whispers, like the word is going to crumble in his mouth. "Danny, please," and Danny nods and rolls the condom down onto Vlad (his hands are so warm, and he thinks he's going to die, right here, in this man's bed, he's going explode. He has seconds.) and straddles him.

"You didn't-" he warns, but Danny is already easing down and _holy shit he is not going to make it_- he cries out in protest. He cannot hurt this man. Not like this.

"I know," he gasps, "It's okay. _It's okay." _And he leans against Vlad's chest and Vlad wants him to hurry downward so he can kiss him, but doesn't dare move, doesn't dare take anything that Danny isn't willing to give him, not a damned inch- but Danny looses his grip and his arms slide up Vlad's chest and he is buried to the hilt, all at once. There are fireworks in his head. His heart aches with his cock and they moan loud and long. Danny's arms snake up around Vlad's neck, barely able to hold themselves up. "_Vlad," _he whispers weakly, kissing his neck and nuzzling him and _purring_, "please, move, oh please move," and so Vlad does.

He wraps his arms around Danny and starts soft, slow. Danny wants to say no, _faster, faster, _he isn't fragile, but maybe Vlad is, maybe Vlad needs it slow, but it doesn't matter because his mouth isn't working again anyway, so he just moans, chanting, "_Oh Vlad, oh Vlad, please" _again and again.

Vlad rolls them over not missing a beat, sliding in and out and against Danny like a wave of warm water. Danny wants to tell him he's beautiful. Wants to tell him how lonely he's been, and how warm Vlad is in his bed. Wants to follow him everywhere. Danny wants to draw constellations for the freckles on his hip and name them after flowers. But all he can do is kiss him, hot, soft, pliant, hard, demanding, hot.

He pulls him down and presses his lips against Vlad's throat, under his ear. He doesn't wonder if Vlad has ever been kissed like this before, but the answer is no, he has not. Not once. Spectra once told him he was a poor old fool that would fall in love with the first woman to touch his withered body. Well, she was wrong. He has been in love a lot longer than this. He could start when Danny is fourteen and unconscious, lying on the floor of his hallway and Vlad's heart is beating ten thousand miles an hour reaching reaching reaching out for the perfect boy, the perfect other. He could start with clones and daughters and the wretched man he always was. He could start with silver angels brining him to safety.

But, he does not mind if, when anyone asks, they begin here.

"Oh, Oh Vlad, I'm, I'm-" Danny shudders, "I can't, I'm going to-" but he doesn't finish his sentence before he comes shuddering against Vlad, and Vlad comes too, and he's not _crying, _exactly, just- his heart has exploded and there is nothing to do but let it drain out and cling to Danny like a child. They kiss long and languidly and Danny doesn't stop wiping away Vlad's tears until they are gone.

Vlad wants to ask, please come back with me, please don't make me go home alone, but he can't- he cannot take or ask for anything more than Danny is willing to give, so he decides to stay in this bed until Danny asks him to leave. He doesn't want to fall asleep, it could be any second, he wants to carve this memory into his mind forever.

Danny pulls up the sheet around both of them, draws Vlad in.

"You're going to have to tell be about this place of yours." he yawns.

"It's not much." Vlad answers quietly, but he's smiling.

"I bet its great. Is it green and gold?" Danny's eyes are drifting shut.

"Of course. And Red and Silver." Danny raises and eyebrow but his eyes are still closed. "For Christmas."

"Of course." Danny smiles. "Merry Christmas."

"Its not Christmas anymore." Vlad points out. It is well past one in the morning. Danny does not respond, because he is asleep.

"Merry Christmas," Vlad says, before he joins him.


End file.
